


Pursuing Old Friends

by Ishxallxgood



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: But we're all Fannibals here, Cannibal eating ass, Cannibal giving head, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal is a little shit, It's mild to me, It's probably mild, Jealous Will Graham, M/M, Might not be mild for you, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Will Graham, Power Bottom Will Graham, Sorry Alana, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, all the sexual innuendos, mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 08:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishxallxgood/pseuds/Ishxallxgood
Summary: Inspired by Mads' answer at Silicon valley comic Con 2018 when he was asked who Hannibal would go after first post fall.Hannibal decides to fulfill his promise to Alana. Will is not happy about this decision. What's a Cannibae to do? What would Will do?Murder shenanigans that's what.





	Pursuing Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Mars for looking over the fic. If there's grammatical errors, take it up with them 😂
> 
> Thank you Dev for being my loudest cheerleader. You rock my socks

"Absolutely not," Will spat, arms crossed defiantly across his chest, lips pursed in displeasure. 

"I was not asking for permission, dear Will," Hannibal replied, tucking the last of his things into the suitcase before turning his eyes back to Will. "I was merely extending an invitation."

Uncrossing his arms, Will took the three steps necessary to close the distance between them and flipped the suitcase on to the ground, scattering its contents across the floor. "Absolutely not," he repeated, venom dripping from his words.

“You’re quite right, Will,” Hannibal said with a nod and a slight click of his tongue as he surveyed the mess. “I don’t need all this for the trip.” Stepping over the scattered clothes, he bent gracefully to retrieve his passport before turning to catch Will’s eye. “Last chance darling, are you sure you wouldn’t like to accompany me on a trip to pursue some old friends.”

“I rather gut myself and eat my liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

Hannibal smiled at him, unadulterated affection swimming in his eyes as he reached out and gently stroked a hand along Will's face, brushing errant curls from his eyes. "If you insist, Will."

Will shivered when Hannibal pulled him close, the hand stroking his face falling firm against the nape of his neck. The embrace was tight, and familiar, and Will could almost feel the cold sting of steel against his belly. Instead he received a chaste peck on his lips and the press of a scalpel into his hand.

"I advise you keep your phone close, in the unlikely event in which you've overestimated your abilities and require medical assistance." There was a seriousness to Hannibal's tone which made Will uneasy. He couldn't possibly think that Will would actually gut himself. He couldn't possibly think that and still actually leave him in such a vulnerable state, could he? "I'd be hard pressed to find myself a widower so soon, especially during my honeymoon."

Will palmed the scalpel, his fingers closing tight around the familiar handle. His eyes flashed with fury as he locked his gaze with Hannibal. "Alternatively, my fucking_ husband _ , can chose to _ not _ go galavanting off, _ during our fucking honeymoon, _ mind you, to pursue a woman half his fucking age."

"Now, now, darling," Hannibal tutted, his hand sliding along Will's neck, thumb gently tracing the outline of his scruffy jaw, "I can assure you, you are being quite generous to our dear Alana by assuming half. With that said, I'll be back in three days, and need I remind you, that you were invited to come. This whole endeavor would certainly be more pleasurable with you by my side."

"Fuck you, Hannibal."

"Oh, mylimasis," Hannibal crooned, "if only we had the time, but I have a flight to catch, and you, you apparently have a surgery to attend to. Three days, mylimasis, and then you can fuck me to your heart's content."

Before Will had the chance to embed the scalpel into Hannibal's throat and render him incapable of making yet another infuriating comment, he was gone. And Will was left bereft of his touch, stone cold like the marble bust in the foyer. 

The closing of the front door jolted his system and he raced to the window, his heart sinking to his stomach as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

Hannibal left. 

He actually left.

_ To pursue Alana. _

Suddenly, every conversation, every touch, every embrace, every word whispered reverently against his skin replayed in his mind. He dissected every single moment of their lives together thus far, after the fall, and that sinking feeling refused to leave.

In the end, Hannibal willingly chose to risk everything, to risk Will himself, to pursue Alana. Sure he _ said _ he would be back in three days time, but anything could happen in that time. He could be caught, he could be killed. Will wasn't sure he could survive separation again. 

And yet.

He had survived worse. Eight months and then three years. Certainly three days should be a walk in the park, especially since he hadn’t been left bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and yet, this separation stung more than the others. It cut him deeper than his smile, than the bone saw, than the words he threw at Hannibal that fateful night.

Will glanced down at the scalpel in his hand, considered for a second what it would feel like to slide it across his smile. To call Hannibal on calling his bluff and cut slow and deep, dig his hands into his own flesh and extract his kidney. He wouldn't survive an operation like that_ . _He would most likely die from the pain alone. And if he did survive that, he'd probably succumb to the blood loss.

It would almost be worth it if he could witness the look on Hannibal's face when he came home to Will’s rotting corpse. Will would delight in the way his monster would have regretted his choice to leave. He would gaze down, or rather up at him and take pleasure in knowing that the bastard wouldn’t even get a chance to eat him. Three days baking in the Cuban sun would render his flesh decayed beyond consumption, even for someone like Hannibal.

But no.

He did not throw them off a cliff together to allow for such a separation. He did not tempt fate to die without Hannibal.

Together or nothing. 

Slamming his fist against the headboard, he embedded the blade of the scalpel into the ancient wood and then snapped it off because he could. Tossing the broken instrument aside, he emptied the bedside table and shoved his wallet and passport into his pocket, kicking at the mess of clothes on the floor for good measure before following after his other half. 

* * *

Tracking Hannibal was not difficult. Not when he knew where to look. Not when the bastard telegraphed his every move to Will. What he did find difficult was stomaching the sight of Alana, clutched within Hannibal’s hands_ , intimately. _

A growl tore through him as he launched himself across the room, pouncing on _ his _ beast and knocking Alana out of his arms. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, one that Will would have felt guilty about in another life. In a world where he still had fucks left to give for her.

In this life, he found it hard to care. Hard to see her through his haze of jealous rage. Her life was inconsequential to him. It mattered little to him whether she lived or died. She had made her own choices in this life, and he was sure that her play at being the devil's keeper did her no favors. What did matter to him though, what set his blood boiling was the fact that her life, or rather her death, evidently mattered _ immensely _ to Hannibal. It was inconceivable to him that Hannibal would choose _ her _ over _ him _ . That Hannibal would risk his freedom, _ their _ freedom, to fulfill a promise he made to _ her. _

“Fuck you,” Will snarled, ripping the knife out of Hannibal’s hand, tossing it violently to the ground before settling his hands back around his monster’s neck, lest he be tempted to finish the job Hannibal started. “How dare you even think of penetrating her.”

“Again,” Hannibal said with a playful smirk, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he arched up and pressed his neck more firmly into Will’s hands, daring him to squeeze harder.

Will’s grip tightened minutely, his fingertips burning with the itch to dig into the tender flesh and claw his way inside. “What do you mean, again?”

The tendons of his neck strained against Will’s palms as Hannibal swallowed and smiled broadly, shifting so that he was propped up on his elbows, chest pressed up against the thighs straddling him. “How dare I even think of penetrating her, _ again,” _ he repeated, emphasizing the word _ again _ in a brazen reminder that there was once upon a time in which he did in fact penetrate Alana, and _ not _ with a knife. 

Red flashed behind Will's eyes, his hands closing tight around Hannibal's throat, that wicked grin on his face growing wider even as his airway was closed off. Hannibal didn't bother fighting him, just shifted under his hold, pressing his growing erection up against him, begging him to squeeze harder. 

Will wanted to finish it. Squeeze until the light left Hannibal's eyes, until he was an empty shell of flesh and blood, but he knew he would not survive Hannibal’s death. It was why he had baptised them in the rolling Atlantic. Together or not at all. Still, he refused to relent, he could not forgive Hannibal his trespasses. He could not forgive the fact that he used Alana. That he penetrated her with flesh when all Will got back then was the cold bite of steel. It was supposed to be him. It was always supposed to have been him. Hannibal was supposed to have picked him.

Will shuddered, hands tightening as he bit back the sob threatening to tumble from his lips. Hannibal rutted up against him, even as his lips turned blue, the smug smile firmly in place. “You fucking bastard,” Will growled, grip relaxing enough for the blood to rush back to Hannibal’s brain before cutting off the circulation again. “I said, absolutely not, and you went ahead and chased her down anyway.”

"Will," Alana gasped, drawing his attention away from Hannibal. Releasing Hannibal he came to a stand and towered over her, hands itching for the discarded knife by his feet.

Pushing herself up, Alana rubbed at her wrists, bruises already blooming where Hannibal’s fingers had dug in. She smiled weakly up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, relief written all over her face. "You came for me."

“He comes for me,” Hannibal said smoothing out his clothes before closing a hand possessively around Will’s ankle, eyes meeting Alana’s. “Most spectacularly too.”

Will glared down at him, lips twitching into a snarl. “Jesus fucking Christ, Hannibal,” Will yelled, pulling his leg out of Hannibal’s grasp and kicking at him for good measure, “can you just stop with the sexual innuendos for five seconds?”

“You were a lousy lay,” Alana scoffed and Will felt rage bubbling inside of him defensively. Hannibal most certainly _wasn’t _ a lousy lay, and Will would be damned if someone bad mouthed his husband. Even if he was an asshole that probably should be taken down a notch or two, because who could possibly be _ that _ goddamn perfect.

"Don't," Will snapped in warning, turning his attention from Hannibal to Alana. "If you have any form of self preservation, just don't."

"He's using you Will," Alana whimpered, her eyes opened wide and pleading, “like he was using me.”

Will snarled. How dare she. How _ dare _ she even begin to compare the two of them. To insinuate that Hannibal regarded _ him _ on _ her _ level. She was _ nothing _ to him. A prized pig perhaps, brought out to show from time to time, but a pig nonetheless. A _ pig _ that wasn’t above the slaughter. Will on the other hand, Will _ knew _ he was more. He was no pig. He was a butcher. An equal. He was the _ man _ who stood by Hannibal and examined the pigs. Decided which ones were ripe for the slaughter, and right now, in this very moment, with her large pleading eyes _ begging _ him to _ understand _ she looked every part the pig to him. 

“Stop, Alana,” he said, reigning back the venom threatening to drip from his words. “Just stop.” He had to remind himself that she was a friend once. A love interest even. Sweet, demure, _ innocent _, Alana.

“Please, Will,” she continued to beg, reaching out for him. “Hannibal doesn’t…” _ Don’t you fucking say it, _ he thought even as he saw the words forming in her mind. “Hannibal doesn’t love you Will. Hannibal is incapable of love. Surely you know this Will, you of _ all people _ should know this.”

"_You," _ Will seethed, yanking Alana up by the hair so she was eye level with him. "I told you to stop, Alana. You don’t know the first thing about Hannibal. You don’t know the first thing about _ me_. You’ve spent most of our relationship avoiding me, and now you suddenly think you _ know _ me? Can see me? You should have stayed blind, Alana. You should have listened to me and stayed away from the devil."

Alana whimpered, trying to pull free from Will's grasp. Hand’s clawing at his arms as his grip tightened. Will distantly heard Hannibal chuckle in the background. He could practically feel the triumphant smile plastered on his monster's face. He knew that Hannibal, without a doubt, already knew what he was going to do next.

With a jerk of his hand a sickening crack echoed across the room and Alana fell limp to the ground. Will stepped over Alana’s body and straddled Hannibal. Dropping to his knees, he snarled at his monster. “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Hannibal replied, hands settling heavy on Will’s hips. “I knew you had it in you, darling.”

“Fuck you,” Will spat, sitting heavy on Hannibal’s legs, as though that would actually keep him in place. Will was painfully aware that in a situation like this, if Hannibal _ didn’t _ want to be pinned down, he could easily buck Will off. Hannibal wanted this though. He _ liked _ seeing Will like this. 

Reaching for the knife, Will dragged it down the center of Hannibal’s chest, starting from his clavicle and ending at his groin. The knife was sharp and tore through the shirt Hannibal was wearing easily, leaving a faint line of red against his skin. It was evident that Hannibal had no real intention of using it on Alana, if he had, her dress would have been torn asunder and stained red.

Hannibal rutted up against him, the knife pressing against his flesh, leaving behind a shallow cut. Will dropped the knife as the blood welled up, following the faint line he had drawn with his tongue until he tasted copper. Hannibal moaned as he sucked against the cut, drawing more of his blood into his mouth. 

"Fuck, baby," Will said, licking at his lips before sitting back on his haunches, eyes drinking in the look of absolute adoration on his monster's face. "You taste-"

Before Will could finish his thought, Hannibal surged up and captured his lips, licking into his mouth to chase the taste of his own blood. Will moaned against him, hands reaching down to relieve them of their pants, because he _ needed _ Hannibal inside him. Hannibal obliged him, lifting his hips to help himself out of his slacks, pushing the torn shirt off his shoulders and discarding it in Alana's general direction.

Hannibal grinned, nipping at his bottom lip as he flipped Will onto his back and divested him of his jeans. Will moaned again, drawing his legs up, snaking them around Hannibal's waist as he drew him close again. He pushed his hips up as his thighs closed around Hannibal, trapping their cocks between them. He rutted up against him, the head of his own cock smearing against the cut, coating it in Hannibal's blood. 

"Oh fuck," Will gasped, biting at Hannibal's neck as he pushed him against the floor, snaking a hand between them to take both of them into his hand. He stroked them together, his way slicked by blood and precum, creating a delicious drag as Will rutted up into his hand. Hannibal bit back, tugging at his ear with his teeth, drawing another moan out of Will as he tightened his grip and picked up the pace. 

"That's it darling," Hannibal cooed in Will's ear, sending shivers down his spine. 

Will could feel it, his orgasm building as his body tensed, luxuriating in the feel of Hannibal's hand, and the delicious drag of his cock against his. With a growl Will unhooked his legs, kicking at him and pushing at Hannibal's shoulders until he released them. 

"No," Will snarled, sitting up to bite at Hannibal's lips, kissing him roughly before releasing him to paw at his discarded slacks. "I want you inside. To fuck me until I come on your cock alone."

"With pleasure," Hannibal said, grabbing his pants from Will to fish out the lube. Will watched, licking his lips as Hannibal tore open the lube, slicking up his cock before lifting Will's hips.

Will moaned, loud and unabashed as Hannibal pushed into him, filling him just the way he liked it. Will lifted his hips, draping his legs over Hannibal's shoulders, chasing the perfect angle.

Hannibal's hands were an iron grip on his hips, fingers digging in and he could feel the bruises blooming, as he thrust relentlessly into him. 

"Oh fuck yes, baby" Will screamed as the blunt head of Hannibal's cock pounded against his prostate just so, his own cock slapping against his stomach from the force of Hannibal's thrusts.

It was heaven. Pure Bliss as Hannibal fucked into him. If he had known, five years ago that fucking Hannibal would feel like _ this. _ That Hannibal could ignite every inch of his body like this. That being conjoined could feel _ this _ good, he would have fucked Hannibal the day he rubber stamped him.

They could have saved themselves so much bloodshed and death. They could have ridden out this twisted reality from the comfort of that ostentatious house of his back in Baltimore. Abigail didn't have to die. Beverly didn't have to die. Chilton didn't have to burn (although, Will doesn't really regret that one, so maybe they'd still arrange for a barbeque in Chilton's honor). Hannibal would _ never _ of had to fuck Alana, he _ never _ would have had to go play house with _ Bedelia. _ Will could have saved poor Molly a lifetime of heartache and pain.

"Fuck, yes," Will groaned, mind pulled back to the present as Hannibal assaulted his prostate again. Will dug his heels into Hannibal's back, holding the angle as Hannibal continued to fuck into him. He was close, so fucking close, but refused to reach for his cock.

"I have you, darling," Hannibal whispered against his lips, kissing his way along his jaw until he reached that spot right below his ear. Will tensed in anticipation, grinding against Hannibal's cock, getting the pressure he needed as he felt Hannibal's teeth fit against his flesh.

Will came with a scream as Hannibal bit down, teeth sinking in, breaking skin. Hannibal continued to thrust into him, chasing his own orgasm as Will clenched around him, hands pulling at Hannibal’s hair trying to both pull him off and push him closer. Will’s mind was a cacophony of noise, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance.

Hannibal grunted, and Will was vaguely aware of him finishing inside of him, flooding him with his seed. He groaned as Hannibal slowly pulled out and gently placed his legs back onto the ground. “You are simply divine, darling,” Hannibal said, licking over his wound before kissing him tenderly, flooding his mouth with the taste of copper and salt. "Although, we might have to go over neck breaking again, our friend Alana is still alive."

Will chuckled against him, giving him another chaste kiss before turning his head toward Alana to meet her eye. She was crying. Tears streaming steadily from her eyes as she shook her head weakly. Will smiled wickedly at her, pushing up on his elbows as Hannibal licked his way down his cum streaked chest. “Oh I know,” he said, letting out a moan as Hannibal lavished attention on a nipple. “_ I _ wasn’t the one who made her a promise, I simply wanted to prove to her that you aren’t a ‘lousy lay.’”

Hannibal preened, eyes shining as he lifted them to meet Will's. “Like I said, beloved, you come most spectacularly for me.”

Will hummed in agreement as Hannibal continued to clean him off with his tongue, settling down between his legs as he lifted his hips again to lick at the trail of cum leaking from his hole. “Fuck yes, baby, you take such good care of me.”

Will let his head fall back, eyes slipping closed as Hannibal took his time cleaning him up, savoring every inch of him. His cock made a valiant attempt to fill again as Hannibal prodded him with his tongue, spearing him open again as he licked the remnants of his cum from Will’s ass. Will distantly heard Alana whimper and matched the noise she made with one of his own as Hannibal slipped a finger in to rub at his over-sensitive prostate.

“Are you going to come for me again, my insatiable boy?” Hannibal asked before licking across his perineum and sucking one of his balls into his mouth.

“Oh god,” Will keened, hips bucking as Hannibal took his half hard cock into his mouth, coaxing it to full hardness with his tongue. He was painfully overstimulated, and yet begging for more. It didn’t take long for him to hit the back of Hannibal’s throat with his cock, groaning as his monster swallowed him down, elegant fingers stroking him from the inside. His hands found Hannibal’s hair again, grabbing for purchase as he tried to ground himself. 

Will had no idea how much time had passed. He was barely coherent, only able to focus on the feel of Hannibal's mouth around him. Tongue tracing around and under his head, throat constricting around him as he swallowed him deep. All he knew was the tightening of his fists in Hannibal’s hair and the blinding flash of white he saw behind his lids as he came down his monster’s throat. 

Hannibal was sputtering, leaking cum and saliva from his mouth as he coughed for air when Will finally released him. Will dropped against the floor, his body wrung out by two successive, mind-blowing orgasms. If he could, he would roll over, bury his face in the thick patch of hair on Hannibal’s chest and sleep for the next twelve hours. Only he couldn’t do that, because they were god-knows-where, and a sobbing, whimpering, Alana was lying not three feet away from them.

With a heavy sigh Will turned his attention back to her, kicking lightly at Hannibal to get up and _ do something _ about her. With half lidded eyes, he watched as Hannibal rose gracefully to his feet, picking up the knife as he sauntered over to where Alana’s paralyzed body was lying.

She was still whimpering, imploring Will to look deep inside of him. To find the Will _ she _ once knew, the Will who still had a shred of morality left within his heart. That Will was long gone. Drowned in the rolling Atlantic, perhaps even before then. Perhaps he was still sitting pretty in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally insane, screaming into the void, only to receive rueful gazes from so-called friends.

Hannibal gently wiped the tears from her cheek, whispering too lowly to her for Will to hear, but judging by the widening of her eyes, he knew it was nothing good. Forcing himself to sit up, he watched as Hannibal dragged the knife down her body, cutting through layers of muscle and fat, until he could open her up, her screams filling the room like a symphony. Will watched with rapt attention as Hannibal broke her sternum with his hands and drew her heart from her body, silencing her forever. 

Will instinctively moved forward, closing the distance between them as Hannibal lifted her heart. Without preamble, he leaned in, teeth sinking into the still warm, dripping flesh of Alana's heart. His eyes locked with Hannibal's as his monster matched his movement and together they took a bite. 

The taste of iron burst into his mouth, and he chewed around the tough piece of muscle before finally swallowing. Will watched as Hannibal swallowed his piece, images of the ortolans flashed before his eyes, and he couldn't deny to himself that even then, he wanted Hannibal the way he had him now. 

"We made a mess," Will said, licking his lips, eyes darting down to the mess before them.

"That we did, mylimasis," Hannibal agreed, surging forward to capture Will in a kiss.

Will groaned against him, eagerly parting his lips to chase the taste of Alana's blood on Hannibal's lips, his tongue. "Jack's going to know it was us," Will said as they broke the kiss, "you're going to get us caught."

"No, dear Will," Hannibal said, gently brushing the matted curls on his forehead back, "I am declaring my love for you to the world."

"Is that so?" Will asked with a grin, "in that case, I do believe that we owe someone else a visit. Someone who believed that they had a _ leg up _ on me. I did promise that someone that _ meat's back on the menu _."

**Author's Note:**

> Here's [ a link to Mads' answer ](https://ishxallxgood.tumblr.com/post/172742635585/svcmads-who-hannibal-would-go-after-first-post)


End file.
